


The Reaping

by PseudonymVirtue



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fuugen, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-06-27 17:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudonymVirtue/pseuds/PseudonymVirtue
Summary: Post series: Fuu's road takes her back to familiar places. Some of them she'd outgrown, and some of them she hadn't quite grown into yet.





	1. Part I

Her feet would carry her until her callouses ached against the softness of her flesh. She thought of them with every step, salty moisture brimming the bottom ledge of her eyes just enough to give them a swollen appearance, but never enough to let a tear fall.

 

She was _so tired_ of crying.

 

Blood soaked the sand on the beach. Mugen's was indecipherable from his attackers' and Jin's. She knew that blood often appeared to be a lot more in quantity than it really was when it pooled and coagulated, but the distinct metallic smell made her feel sick amidst the burst of adrenaline and lingering ringing in her ears from the explosion as she frantically held pressure to his wounds with rags, leaning her full body weight feebly for all it was worth, sobbing the entire time.

 

He'd groan and contract against her every now and then, and she'd only look down at her hands, unable to fathom the possibility of meeting his eyes when they fluttered open. If she were more level headed like Jin, she supposed that she'd be comforted by his occasional and brief arousal to pain, but she was exhausted and hysterical, her vision blurred from tears and and spray of the ocean against the rocks, and as his blood thickened and clotted against the ridges of her fingernails and knuckles she felt anything but comfort; and the sight of the elderly man giving Jin similar treatment only feet away didn't help things.

 

She'd pulled him herself part of the way to the cabin. When his bleeding slowed enough she gripped him tightly by the blue tattooed bands at his wrists and pulled, her hands sticky enough to give her a good grip amidst her efforts. He was surprisingly heavy, given the often weightless and limber manner in which he always moved.

 

The man stopped her, huffing with a bloodstained blanket he'd used to haul Jin's body ahead of her. Together they tucked it lengthwise under him and rolled him onto it. It made navigating the rocks easier, and more forgiving with the sand and the chunks of rock that would've scraped his back as she pulled without it.

 

A curious woman from the village emerged, and proceeded to bring water and linens to bathe the pair in freshwater from the well with the linens she'd spared.

 

Both men were stripped and laid on blankets in the cabin, where her father's body had been covered only moments before. He'd have a proper burial soon, but the needs of the living were more urgent at the moment.

 

When she squeezed the wet rags over him, Mugen withdrew again, eyes fluttering open as grey irises rolled back in his head and his limbs twitched spastically.

 

The caretaker seized her by the hand.

 

“Go slow,” He spoke kindly, showing her a gentler cleansing he administered to Jin. “You don't want to stress him.”

 

* * *

 

It was in the midst of her father's burial that she grew conscious of the swelling on her face and body from when she'd been beaten only hours before.

 

* * *

 

Jin woke first, if only for a moment.

 

She didn't have any idea until she opened her eyes and looked back at him. She'd fallen asleep on the floor beside them as she had for many nights before, watching for any little movement in the darkness. Her heart skipped at any little movement, most of which came from Mugen.

 

 _“Jin!”_ She gasped, reaching out to touch him, and he only closed his eyes in response and appeared to slip back to unconsciousness.

 

In the present she'd occasionally spot a glimpse of red in her peripheral vision, causing her to snap her gaze hopefully in that direction.

 

She had an idea of where to find Jin, and when the time came she reunited with him and his new bride in a late summer, when the rains fell hard enough to soak the ground and the trees entirely so that the earth would squish beneath her feet from saturation.

 

Jin hadn't heard from him either.

 

She wasn't sure why, but that bugged her. The three of them had departed under some sort of pretense that they'd meet again somehow- at least Jin understood that much, so why couldn't he?

 

Shino asked her to stay with them but she couldn't bring herself to comply. Her spirit was restless and agitated, and at night before she dosed she would remember dull grey eyes that rolled lazily over to her when he spoke. He would infuriate her daily- at times making her swear to herself that at the end of their journey she would steal him from his arrangement with Jin and murder him in his sleep herself.

 

But she spent the night hysterically bargaining to any higher power to keep him alive as her slim fingers pressed his wounds beneath his bandages to ensure he hadn't started bleeding again.

 

So when she saw a flash of red on the road or in a teahouse and it wasn't him, she blamed him that much more.

 

She developed an obsession with wanted posters and public executions in every town, looking for some sort of trail to follow. Mugen was bound to be in some sort of trouble by now.

 

But he left her with nothing to go off of.

 

So after a year of searching, she directed her attention elsewhere. What would she even say to him if she saw him again, chastise him for not checking in with her or Jin? To which he'd undoubtedly respond with some insult emphasizing how little he cared, or how he'd much rather get laid. But she wouldn't let him get away with that tough guy act anymore: she'd call him out and tell him that he did care when he forfeited his sword for her life.

 

She wandered to the town where she met Shinsuke, and walked the the street where she'd first encountered the young man who stole her purse. Several blocks over, he was stabbed to death after she pleaded with him not to forget her. She wandered to his home that he lived with his mother, it was otherwise occupied, as she suspected.

 

She sat on a hill by herself, the thick green carpet under her bare toes as she watched the sunrise after she'd been roaming all night. She was looking him the direction of her own hometown where she lived with _her_ own mother, but declined the inclination to go.

 

Lack of funds caused her to take up work in the next town she came across, and before she knew it fall had passed in a mild haze of more people who came and went, all touched by the pleasant charms and stories of the well travelled waitress at the tea house.

 

She then doubled back to Jin's, where a dojo had been erected and he and Shino had their first child. She fussed over the chunkiness of the baby as she pulled it from Shino's arms, entranced by the soft wisps of dark hair and long eyelashes. She bounced the boy on her hip and observed aloud on how much he resembled his father. She couldn't help but notice how her voice inflected up an octave when she cooed at the child and the parents smiled politely, enhancing telltale dark circles under their eyes.

 

 _'You're so lucky to have a father like Jin.'_ She told him in her thoughts, as if the child would hear and understand them.

 

She quickly felt ashamed at the longing for a father figure, remembering her father's last words to her before he was assassinated. The truth was, she didn't blame him anymore. The years of resentment and anger had melted the day she buried him beneath the ground.

 

But at dinner that evening, that resentment passed on to someone else.

 

“Mugen came here, about a month ago.” Jin said matter-of-factly.

 

Fuu froze, and furrowed her brow as she stared as him from across the table. She felt her heart accelerate at a dizzying rate.

 

“He _did?_ ”

 

At the corner of her eye she saw Shino pause from eating, studying her expression and casting a knowing glance to her husband.

 

“He just showed up one evening, and then he said he had to go. We tried to convince him to stay longer. He stayed for a night and was gone by morning.”

 

Fuu did her best to maintain her composure. “Well that is just _typical._ ”

 

Shino rested her hand on the table, as if in some attempt to touch hers. “We think he wanted to check and see if you were here. And when he saw that you weren't, and we hadn't heard from you in some time, his mind was made up.”

 

Fuu said nothing, suddenly losing interest in her food as she poked at it.

 

Later in the evening she sat on a bench in the garden, listening to the song of the insects that mated in the night. The wind rustled through the red leaves of the maple tree overhead, adding an overpowering hiss to the chirping chorus. Under the light of the moon she sat with her palms against the cold stone of the seat.

 

A door from the home slid open, Shino stepped out, carrying her teary eyed child in tow.

 

“Do you always keep him up so late?” Fuu asked bluntly, instantly realizing how rude her question sounded.

 

But Shino only chuckled, walking down the steps carefully and shifting the infant so that he was tucked over her shoulder as she sat beside Fuu.

 

“Some babies sleep through the night by the time they're four months of age. He doesn't.”

 

“Ah.” Fuu replied, feeling silly about her question now. “Well if he's anything like Jin he'll never sleep through the night, he'll just wake up and not say anything and the next thing you know he's looking at you like this.” She furrowed her brow and straightened her mouth in a mockingly serious and stern expression.

 

Shino laughed, nodding in wordless recognition and Fuu smiled for the first time that evening. She offered her arms to the older woman. “May I?”

 

“Please.” Shino smiled weakly and passed the child to her. “He only sleeps when I take him outside.”

 

“Well I don't blame him. I like it out here too.” Fuu bobbed him in her lap, looking down for a second time at his peaceful face.

 

Shino watched her for a moment and mimicked her former posture on the bench, back relaxed and palms flat.

 

“You're good with him.” She said at last. Her voice was gentle and measured, just like Jin's. “Have you ever wanted children?”

 

Fuu shrugged. “I never really thought about it.” She spoke earnestly “I always assumed I would someday, but now that I'm older it just seems like there's so much that could go wrong, you know? My mom raised me by herself, and she was so good at making it feel normal at the time, but sometimes I could tell it was really hard for her. My father... wasn't very helpful to her.”

 

Shino slowly traced an in decipherable shape in the dirt beneath her feet. “I know. My first husband...”

 

She trailed off for a moment and Fuu understood the context, though she'd forgotten completely about how Shino and Jin met when he'd leave in the night to be with her in the brothel.

 

“I remember that.”

 

Shino nodded, as if grateful that she didn't have to recount the full story.

 

“... I was always afraid to bring a child into a world in that marriage. I used to attempt precautions so that it wouldn't happen. But then I felt so ashamed because it was my duty as his wife to be a mother.”

 

Fuu listened silently, shifting the child so that the back of his head rested against her arm as he kicked his legs in his sleep.

 

“I can't imagine.” The young woman murmured.

 

“But then when I met Jin, I wasn't sure that I would even be able to conceive a child because of all the precautions I took in my last marriage. When I told him, he told me he didn't care.”

 

“Yeah, that's Jin for you.”

 

Fuu's thoughts yet again turned back to Mugen. For almost two years since they went their separate ways she'd been hoping to run into him, but since then that hope had turned to anxiety and fear, and now to anger and resentment, to this very moment where she felt mystified by the fact he had walked this very ground- if only briefly just one month ago.

 

Mugen was alive and well. Probably drinking sake and screwing some whore inside or outside a brothel at that very moment.

 

What was she hoping to find by meeting him again? She only wanted to see him and talk to him. But what about afterwards? Just because she'd changed, was it fair that she expected him to be changed too?

 

“Hey Shino, I need to ask you something.” Fuu spoke and the babe's eyes fluttered open again, fixated on hers in a puzzled expression as if he was unsure if he was fine resting in her arms or not.

 

“What is it?” Shino asked, tilting her chin and smiling tiredly down at her son.

 

“When Mugen came, how did he seem to you?”

 

Shino turned to her, her expression gaining seriousness. “Um. It's hard to say, because I only met him once.”

 

“Did he seem like he was doing okay?” Fuu asked, unrelenting.

 

Shino thought for a moment before she spoke, as if thinking carefully about how to say what she wanted to say.

 

“I think so. He startled me to be honest, because he approached me when Jin was in the middle of a training session. I was tending the garden out here, and he approached me from behind and he looked a little... rough. I think it was that tattoos that originally frightened me.”

 

Fuu shook her head. “I'm sorry about that, that's normal for him. He's never been good at making friends.”

 

“He asked for Jin and that's when I remembered who he was from Jin's stories. I told him he was occupied at the moment but invited him inside for lunch. He was pretty happy about that. He seemed awfully hungry.” Shino chuckled as she spoke the last sentence.

 

Fuu smiled a little, thinking of what it was about Mugen's foul language that gave someone as perceptive as Shino the signal that he was happy. And she also found herself both in awe and incredibly grateful that a lady like Shino invited a thug like Mugen into her home to eat.

 

“Like Jin said, he only stayed for the night. He didn't divulge much information about where he'd been or where he was headed. We offered him a bed and he was gone by morning. But he seemed... alright.”

 

“Do you really think he was looking for me?”

 

Shino blinked at her. “Well, what else would he come here for? He didn't ask for anything, he didn't seem like the type to want to 'catch up' with us.”

 

Silence set in and passed for a moment before Shino spoke again. “If you find him, what will you do?”

 

It wasn't terribly long ago she'd get the same question about the search for her father. Back then the answer was so simple, until it became more complex.This situation was all the more complex, as she originally simply wanted to make sure he was alive and well, but now that she had confirmation of that it wasn't enough.

 

She then told Shino about the day her father died. She told her about the man who chased her down in a sunflower field, who molested her and bound her and beat her, until Mugen showed up when she was positive that he wouldn't- because she'd released him from his debt to her and told him he was free to go.

 

But he crossed over to the island and found her anyway.

 

She stayed with Jin and Shino for two more months with a new murkiness in her heart.

 

Mugen had disappeared again, but she remembered thoroughly how relieved she was when his flesh felt warm again, and how her heart skipped a beat when his lips parted ever so slightly on their own when she squeezed water onto his tongue to moisten it. She was so overjoyed that she kissed him lightly and quickly over scar on his brow.

 

Shino was insistent that she stay and could contribute to the household in a meaningful way. She did chores and tended the garden and took their son out for walks in the afternoons when he was fed so that Shino could lie down and get some sleep. The child had grown fond of her, and she grinned every time he cooed in an attempt to say her name, _“ooo!”_ as little chubby hands grabbed for her.

 

Fuu took him to the hill overlooking the dojo as she had many times before, the place she'd sat through the night on her first visit. She spread out a blanket in the grass and teased him with toys until little giggles erupted from his chest. He was strong enough to sit upright on his own now, but if he laughed hard enough he'd topple over until she caught him.

 

“You're a handful, just like your mom says.” She told him, laying on her stomach and resting her chin in a hand. His dark eyes smiled back at her in response.

 

“But your parents both seem so mild-mannered. So tell me, which one is the secret wild-thing? Your mom or your dad?”

 

He screeched briefly and made a fist.

 

When he was tired he'd lay on his back with his soft feet curled to his chest, pulled a rattle to his mouth.

 

She lay beside him on her back and closed her eyes, feeling the residual heat of the setting sun caress her body as the gentle breeze brushed into between her toes. It dawned on her in that moment that she had to leave soon, that this life belonged to Jin and Shino and not to her. But she was happy to be a part of it and to have the affection of the little creature beside her.

 

She awoke with a gasp when something hard nudged her in the ribs. Her eyes shot open and she tensed defensively, eyes squinting at the last of the blaring light of the brilliant gold sun. A dark figure with matted hair towered over her. Fuu flinched reflexively, squirming to the side on her palms and throwing an arm protectively over the baby.

 

She glared upward at at intruder who appeared to be looking down on her in a shadowy figure of matted thick hair and a sword over the shoulder.

 

It couldn't be _him_. She opened her mouth in an attempt to scream or yell until he interrupted her.

 

“Oi, girlie. Four-eyes got you babysittin'?”

 

She squinted, recalling that harsh voice from memories of pain and anguish. The emotions ripped through her and her breath caught in her throat.

 

She rose to her feet slowly, her eyes burned and teared against the sun, but when his shoulder barricaded the light from her complexion the familiar shapes and colors flooded her vision. Red hue over his shoulder and chest. Dark skin made weathered by his days in the sun. Black stubble spotted under his jaw and nose and over his chin. His eyes were considerably softer than the first time she saw him, stormy grey and focused on her.

 

She remembered how angry she'd been, and glared up at him. She opened her mouth to say something.

 

_“Where the hell have you been, Mugen...”_

_“I was worried sick...”_

_“Isn't there a brothel you should be at?”_

_“I've been looking everywhere...”_

_“Since when is a jerk who brawls daily so hard to find?...”_

_“Jin said you left without telling him anything...”_

 

She closed it, her frown remaining as she said nothing. He stood before her, as tall as he ever had been, his posture still as his long, lanky arm hung at his sides, as if ready and accepting of any small fists or angry insults that came his way.

 

She balled a fist, and relaxed it immediately after, impulsively choosing instead to throw her arms around him, eyes squeezed shut as she inhaled. His heart beat was loud against her ear on his chest, threatening to burst from his ribs.

 

She recalled pressing two fingers to the pulse on the side of his neck in the night for reassurance. It bumped weakly against her finger, fast and thready, but there. In the days afterward it slowed and became stronger, until it was a proper bounce of vessel.

 

His arms moved awkwardly- perhaps reluctantly, but she couldn't help but smile against him as they rested subtly at her shoulders.

 

He smelled of salty sweat and warm musk, but it wasn't bad at all.

 

She wasn't angry at the moment.

 


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I looked my demons in the eyes  
> Lay bare my chest  
> Said “do your best  
> To destroy me  
> See I've been to hell and back  
> So many times  
> I must admit  
> You kinda bore me”  
> There's a lot of things  
> That can kill a man  
> There's a lot of ways to die.
> 
> -Ray Lamontagne, “Empty”

 

 

Sunlight interrupted his sleep, glaring redness that made him squint as his eyelids opened before shutting them again. His features wrinkled under the strain, and he brought a hand to his face and groaned as he rolled over, finding relief from the intrusive sun.

 

Mugen dosed again.

 

It was hot. He woke again, sun-soaked skin damp with sweat under the heat. He swallowed, and the saliva clicked against the back of his throat in its parched state.

 

* * *

 

He sat down on a bench and crossed his arms as he waited for his food. At the corner of his eye, a child that was seated next to him was pulled closer to his mother in her green kimono and she offered no discretion as she did so.

 

She was staring at him. He uncrossed his arms and moved to a different bench; not because he was concerned about making her uncomfortable, but because sitting next to her was _fucking_ irritating.

 

* * *

 

In the stillness of the dead of night, he woke on his back on the floor of the hut. He grunted and as his head rolled to the side. Pins and needles shocked him from the pit of his abdomen to the stems of his limbs, giving hints as to how he got there in the first place.

 

He was cold. Sickeningly cold. Cold like a corpse.

 

When his gaze focused on the woman before him, he squinted. She was curled up into a ball, knees to her chest as she slept by his side.

 

The old church. The crazy bastard with an eyepatch and sickle. The beach with the dynamite. Jin's sword.

 

So why was he here?

 

_Where?_

 

Fuu's eyes opened slowly, the paralysis of sleep wearing off as recognition settled on her feminine features.

 

And she looked like shit.

 

Her eyes widened and she shot upright, leaning on her knees over him.

 

 _'Mugen!'_ She hissed in a hushed whisper. “You're awake!”

 

He opened his mouth and reached impulsively for her blurring form, but his body protested and his elbow hit the floor with an audible thud.

 

He remembered breathing rapidly until she cradled his head in her lap, and he listened to her hushed voice speaking indistinct words as a pipe was brought to his lips. Mind hazy to begin with, he took hits from the pipe as she urged him to until his injuries melted to the floor and he slept again, subconsciously noting fingers running soothingly through his hair.

 

He didn't really want her to touch him like that, but it felt nice.

 

* * *

 

 

Several nights after he'd left Jin's for the first time, he ascended the steps of the brothel, his purse slightly lighter, his mind slightly buzzed from sake, and all other appetites satisfied.

 

Come to think of it, this was the longest he'd gone without fighting someone for as long as he could remember. He shifted his shoulders, adjusting to the weight of his newly returned sword on his back.

 

* * *

 

It was a new sense of calm, traveling alone again. There was no tension with Jin, and most of all no irritating shrill voice from behind him, making snide remarks about his appetite or the women who chose to keep his company. She'd call him out on the most tedious bullshit and just when he convinced himself it didn't bother him she'd start talking again. It didn't matter if it was a harmless observance of the weather, or the pleasant recollection of an old memory, her shit was _relentless._

 

As much as he hated her commentary he found himself prodding the sources of her annoyances. He purposely spent their money recklessly, he mocked her thin and girlish figure, making it a point to allude to his excursions at the brothel to Jin in her presence. He took pleasure and the wrath erupted from her big fat mouth until she managed to counter with something infuriating of her own.

 

He appreciated her the most, if at all, when he was on the verge of unconsciousness in the dim cabin, though she now invaded every sense of his existence, calling him back from the dead by name and making appearances in rough feverish dreams he dreamt under hot windows.

 

He never admitted it to himself, but wherever he roamed he paid special attention to girls with pink kimonos and messy hair, particularly if they walked like they had a giant chip on their shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Fuu had been so excited by the ocean, she ran past him and Jin both, hiking her kimono up to break the waterline and splash in it playfully. The ocean was vast and unforgiving, and a sure way to bury proof of evil deeds. Even the most innocent looking waves could disguise an undercurrent that could jostle the strongest of swimmers in whatever way it pleased.

 

She chased the waves like it was a game.

 

She pulled him back to life several days later.

 

* * *

 

The woman was asleep as he approached the blanket. And a chubby, ebony-haired baby looked up at him inquisitively and silently as he stopped, his loud geta falling to silence as dusk was setting in over the horizon.

 

It was Fuu.

 

Her features where older, longer, but the she had the same nose and same stupid mouth that he couldn't erase from his memory.

 

It was just like her, falling asleep in the wilderness with a baby.

 

He stood there for a moment, pondering the irony of it all. He wanted nothing to do with her, but he missed her the entire way.

 

He circled around her slowly, stalking her like prey. All the horrible things that could happen to her were now a possibility, had he been someone else. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

 

But he wasn't a different man, though he often anticipated violent ends with every corner he turned where he couldn't see the other side.

 

The baby watched him the entire time, large brown stupid eyes wide at him and he ignored it, nudging the sleeping woman with his geta.

 

She stiffened, her eyes widened in terror and she jumped up to stand before him, the expression of realization spreading slowly across her features.

 

It'd been a while. Three years, at least. He wasn't sure. He could feel her energy: fiery and furious, and then it was quenched for some reason. She embraced him, with her skinny arms wrapped around his back and her head pressed against his chest. She practically gasped his name. He wasn't aware that her hair would brush over the exposed skin of his breastbone, and he wasn't prepared for it either.

 

He reminded him of why he bothered to wake her in the first place. He missed her, or something, after all.

 

* * *

 

The sun had set and he was left with Jin's sake on the steps of the house with his elbows on his knees, a cup in hand. The evening rains had come, sprinkling the green landscape with moisture and the mist of raindrops then ensured him he was alive.

 

The door behind him opened and Fuu emerged with her own cup, unceremoniously grabbing the decanter from his hand to pour her own.

 

“It's funny,” She chirped, her feet bare like his own. She sat beside him, extending her legs and stretching her toes out from under the roof to ensure the met the rain, “I've been looking for you for a long time, Mugen. I've been so worried, and so angry with you sometimes. And when I saw you today I was so happy, but I didn't expect you to be so _different_.”

 

He ignored the last part of her sentence. “Why were you angry?”

 

She huffed and sipped her cup for a moment, taking her sweet time. And as she spoke slowly, he could tell she was choosing her words carefully. “Because... I couldn't find you. I thought part of the deal was we'd all find each other, you know?”

 

“What deal?”

 

His words cut her, he could tell. She was older, sure, but she hadn't lost her sense of childish ideations.

 

“You know... when we all separated, I thought we'd all try to look each other up.”

 

Mugen snorted and sipped his own cup, spitting slightly as he turned to pour another cup from the decanter resting beside her.

 

“You tricked me into your little road trip. If you couldn't find me after, it's 'cause I didn't want you to.”

 

He felt her shift uncomfortably. He glanced from the side, noting how sad her eyes were and he instantly felt remorse for his harsh statement.

 

But why?

 

“You're right.” She said softly, throwing her head back to swiftly consume the rest of her glass. “But here you are.”

 

She was smiling at him, he could tell by her voice.

 

* * *

 

After their last dinner together on Ikitsuki island, Fuu came to him at the base of the cliff, where he sat with his legs dangling over the edge. Her arms were carrying a bowl of ointment and bandages.

 

“I'm good,” He told her, “Go see Jin.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I already saw Jin. Come on.” She motioned to the cloth wrapped around his chest and abdomen. “Let me see, okay? This is the last time.”

 

Mugen would never admit it, but he hated these sessions with Fuu, and there had been many of the course of the journey. Ever since he gained full consciousness he'd grown fully aware of her eyes on his skin that'd he'd so unabashedly revealed to others. In it's current state, puckered and pruny with fresh wounds, layers of scar tissue forming over the burns that covered his left chest and the bullet hole in his abdomen, Fuu looked at him with distress, with pity and sorrow and he hated it.

 

He stilled and obediently turned towards her, watching the concentration on her face as she set down her supplies next to him and worked at unwrapping his old soiled wrappings, fingers brushing against his chest and he winced, not from pain but from the very fact the he'd never been touched by a woman in such an intimate, yet platonic manner. She was careful so as to not hurt him despite the fact that he'd endured being tortured, shot, lit on fire, and stabbed only weeks before.

 

He didn't bother to remind her of that. He turned away as she dipped a rag into the bowl and scrubbed at him, her nose and cheeks wrinkling as she brushed over a particularly sensitive spot over the gunshot wound.

 

He watched the ocean waves roll over one another, tossing water against the beach below them in an incessant drift of hisses from the water.

 

Sobbing.

 

Mugen snapped his gaze back to the crying girl before him and furrowed his brow. Fuu's face was buried into her forearms, a hand still clutching the rag burdened with his dried blood and dead flesh.

 

Unsure of how to touch her, he hesitated at first, reaching a hand before retracting it, then letting it hover over her for a moment.

 

“Ey, girlie.” He spoke softly. She lifted her face to look at him, her eyes puffy and swollen. She was cute at her best, he could admit, but she was a damn ugly crier.

 

“You...” His voice trailed off.

 

Fuu shook her head. “I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm so sorry about everything.”

 

He said nothing, but lowered his arm so that he could grip her by the shoulder. She looked him squarely in the eye.

 

“If I hadn't... this whole thing...” She lamented, leaning into him and making him uneasy.

 

“ _The fuck_ are you talking about?” He pressed her, “Those crazy assholes would've found me with any crazy bitch I was travelin' with!”

 

She smiled weakly at him, “Guess I just help speed that up, huh?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, you sped it up alright.”

 

His words caused her face to contort again and he silently cursed. There was no winning with this girl.

 

She lowered her head, facing downward until he brought his hand to her chin, tilting it up toward him.

 

“Talk to me, girlie.”

 

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, “I'm just so _sorry_.” She sobbed, gripping his wrist by her small hand, “But I'm so damn _grateful_ for you, Mugen.”

 

Minutes passed. He stilled, moving only as necessary to breath as she looked to him again.

 

“Thank you,” Fuu whispered.

 

He half expected a weird embrace but instead she turned and focused on the task at hand, rewrapping him in fresh bandages.

 

The feelings he had then he couldn't comprehend. It wasn't until weeks later, after they had went their separate ways that he awoke in the night and realized that the natural response that any normal man would've had would've been would be to kiss her; the thought made his stomach curdle but then he remembered some men made gestures like that out of pure affection and not simply out of lust.

 

He was well acquainted with lust but not so much affection.

 

* * *

 

His mind moved in disjointed snippets. One evening he could hear Fuu's incessant musings and the faint banter of a prostitute all in one sitting, muddled by the distant birdcall and the hum of insects over the hill.

 

Being under the same roof as her again gave him the creeps. He heard her bare footsteps in the mornings walking past his door, and her hushed voice down the hall attempting to soothe the fussy babe. When he passed through the corridor to the kitchen her could smell her, as long as the aromas of whatever meal Shino was cooking weren't pungent enough to stifle the sweet odor of Fuu's hair or skin, he wasn't sure which and he didn't want to think about it that much.

 

* * *

 

She ran out to slap him the morning he left, loudly interrogating him on his whereabouts and why she wasn't included. He didn't have a coherent answer to give her, other than a shrug and a witty swipe at her intrusion. She demanded he wait for her through clenched teeth before spinning on her heels and reentering the house for her things.

 

Shino descended the steps, baby in her arms, smiling politely at him before turning her gaze at the ground, settling onto a stone bench across from him. She didn't say much and only fussed over the child in her lap.

 

He was sick of that kid, whether it was in his vicinity or not. Fuu, on the other had adored him. She got her hands on the child every chance that she could get it seemed, brown eyes wide with glee every time he clumsily attempted her name and reached for her with fat fingers. The poor kid was probably getting confused at which pair of tits would feed him; not Fuu's that was for sure.

 

He waited, only halfway reluctant. He was anxious to leave, but not without Fuu's company. He'd never admit that to her, but years of the road on his own no longer bore the same allure. Food had little taste, and days with filled with the unrelenting hum of insignificant propositions and banter. He'd never be one to take his own life, but he could now understand why others did it.

 

Maybe it was Fuu.

 

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

 

Mugen flinched at the woman in his peripheral and tipped his head to her, arms crossed.

 

“Didn't know you got so attached.”

 

Shino chuckled, adjusted to restless child in her lap. “Not to me, to Fuu. I expect you'll be hearing all about it once she comes back out here.”

 

Mugen sighed, shifting his weight to the opposite leg. The past week had done him good here; he ate better than usual, causing him to fill out visibly and increasing the amount of weight in muscle mass he was accustomed to when he stood.

 

“Nothin' new. She's always lookin' for something to bitch about.”

 

“I think she's only like that with you around.”

 

Mugen's eyes widened, and he glanced at the older woman from the corners of his eyes. He didn't say anything in response, only carefully turning her words over in his head.

 

Fuu emerged moments later, huffing in exhaustion as she swung a linen bag over her shoulder.

 

“Oh, good, you're still here.” She nodded to Mugen.

 

“Did I have a choice?”

 

She ignored him, hugging Shino and the baby one last time before departure. It wasn't until he turned and started walking that he heard her frantic steps from behind catching up to him, and he had to admit, he didn't hate to hear them.

 

He didn't hate it at all.

 

* * *

 

The fire was reduced to embers, glaring in fierce red heat with a single spit of flame when he poked at it with a stick. He lay propped up by his elbows as the young woman lay on her side facing him, so close that her breath blew on his arm with every exhale.

 

He wanted to stay in the last city, but she insisted they press on to the next one. Sundown set in earlier than she had anticipated, and as a result they set up a fire and set their perch on the ground.

 

He could give her shit about it. He could've called her out a dumb decision and pointed out that he had made the wiser suggestion to sleep in the middle of civilization with sake and food.

 

But he was content to lay with her in silence, the only noise being crickets in the tall grass that surrounded them.

 

“After we parted, where was the first place you went?” She asked.

 

He raised an eyebrow. He had no idea she was still awake, as she'd fallen silent after devouring their catches from the nearby river.

 

He sighed. “I dunno.” He poked the fire again, causing a rush of heat over their toes as a flame freed itself from under a burnt log. “It was a long time ago, ya know?”

 

She yawned, exhaling heavily against his arm. He pretended not to notice.

 

“I thought about turning around and finding you guys at first. But the further I got, the more I just wanted to find somewhere to lay down where no one would bother me for a while.”

 

Mugen smirked at the statement, tilting his head backward to face the night sky.

 

“I know what that's like.” He mused. Another guy would've used this chance to cozy up with her, to steal as much affection as he could while her heart was willing to pour out. But he recognized that him and Fuu were bonded but what they had most in common, and in that moment it was both of their desires to be both alone in their thoughts as much as they'd longed for one another.

 

* * *

 

The first time he kissed Fuu was after witnessing her successfully barter her way into a free room at the inn, after accidentally stumbling into the owner having a romp with a girl far younger than he, in an alley behind the teahouse where they ate to escape the clutches of the rain.

 

Mugen was drunker than usual when she emerged from the sliding door that led to the bath springs. He rolled to his side to face her with one arm tucked on the side of his head.

 

The confirmation that he was awake was all that she needed to open her mouth and start spilling about all the things she'd thought about during her bath- where they should head to next, praises over their frugal spendings, Jin's kid, and a friend that she made with a birthmark in the shape of a fish over her chin.

 

He over grunted in response and she fell silent.

 

“Are you even listening to me?” Fuu rolled her eyes at him, sliding down the wall opposite him while running a towel through her damp hair.

 

He pulled himself forward into a sitting position. His hair was growing out long again, brushing against his shoulder and the back of his neck.

 

A familiar fiery expression crossed her features until her eyes locked on something. Her face fell.

 

He recognized that mopey face. She'd been wearing it the entire week before they'd gone their separate ways, when she'd fussed over him and Jin relentlessly and he'd lost his thirst for killing.

 

A warm breeze caressed his skin from the window and he remembered that his upper body was naked.

 

She hadn't seen the scars before. He'd been nearly naked in front of her many times before, hell, during his time recovering from his injuries on Ikitsuki Island she'd probably seen it all on a daily basis. Since then he didn't use his sword as often, his mind went quiet until he'd remember the woman that sat in front of him.

 

Aside from the faint claw marks across his cheek he had various long indentations and a single marled irregular scar on the right side of his abdomen, the remainders of a scythe and a gunshot.

 

They were still, the only noise being a distant passerby talking softly a short distance from the window. She was with him when he changed. She was with him before, as much as he wanted to rid himself of her the entire time. It was then that he realized that he found her attractive.

 

Mugen leaned forward, crawling to her on all fours for several paces. She was still frozen, big eyes staring at him as her head only rested on her toweled hand.

 

He halted and scanned her face. She was hard for him to read because he'd never made a move on anyone like her, because when he met her she was an annoying little bitch who could never keep her mouth shut and never knew how to stay out of trouble.

 

Her knees slid to her chest, and he understood it was to act as a barrier. A lock of drying wispy hair had draped down from her forehead and he reached to push it back. She still didn't move, but she didn't recoil from him either.

 

He kept his hand at the edge of her forehead, and leaned in to press his lips against hers. It took her a moment to respond, even if it was only a slight upward tilt of her chin and the small part of her lips. His fingers fanned out over the top of her head, feeling the soft strands that were damp against his skin there.

 

Looking back, he wasn't sure what made him retreat to his own side of the room. It could've been the brush of her fingers against his arm, or the girlish noise she made when his tongue ran aggressively over her bottom lip that inevitably caused arousal- while also inviting unwelcome emotions that he wasn't so familiar with for the kind of woman that he wasn't so familiar with.

 

* * *

 

“What happened that day, anyway?” He asked her bluntly, refilling his sake.

She paused for a moment, sitting with her knees together on the cushion across from him. “I forgot you didn't know.” She spoke, seeming half amused by her own oversight. “I found my father in the cabin where I took you. He was nearly dead himself, at the time. It... wasn't exactly how I pictured our confrontation. But then the assassin came for him. And he came after me too, until Jin found us.”

Mugen's eyes flickered to hers.”There's holes in that story.”

Fuu sighed and told him the rest. She told him of a lonely childhood with a mother who died not long before he met her in a tea shop, a childhood filled with Christian prayers and dolls that she'd made from the hems of old clothing. She told him of the field of sunflowers he parents had planted before she was born. And the last words of a dying father to his daughter, which, hell, sounded a lot better than anything he'd ever gotten.

Still, when she spoke of her father's death he knew what it was to have empathy for the first time since he killed Sara.

-

The second time, she kissed him. They were in a hot spring just outside a different town, and she entered the water knowing he was there with her arms crossed over her small breasts.

 

He made a comment mocking her naivete and she countered with a smart-ass remark about his most recent brothel excursion. She was in the water near him, moving to his side and by the movement of the water effectively moving all around him. She gripped the rocks at the ledge by him as they spoke and sank into the water facing him eyes innocent and dark pupils moving rapidly as she talked.

 

By then he'd figured this was what it was: the continuation of their journey in the lightest of terms where four-eyes got the quiet ending he'd wanted, while he and Fuu walked and worked through the days to have quiet nights like this. There was a time when a younger him would've ditched her at every turn had he the chance, but as of tonight, he decided, he wouldn't try that again.

 

It was unclear who made the first move- or maybe they locked eyes and both decided where the evening would go. But he pulled her to him and his mouth crashed into hers. She was far more receptive this time, reaching her arms around his neck and bringing her knees nearly to his armpits on either side under the water, causing the instant familiar arousal in his groin.

 

Her body was soft, and as familiar to him as it was strange. He ran his hands slowly from her knees to her thighs, up her backside when he lifted her and carried her through the water to a grassy rock formation in the middle of the spring. The moon reflected off the surface of the water and the light danced on their features like broken glass.

 

He'd never held anything so closely before- or tightly. And when his lips moved to her jaw she gasped his name and arched her back against him. He felt her fingers run through his hair again, roughly pulling him upward to kiss her on the mouth again and the familiar waves of comfort from the cabin washed over him. He smiled against her lips. For once, it seemed, he found something that made him feel like he belonged, something that made him quiet and still.

 

This is how his life would end, he decided: not from a maiming on a beach or a deserved executioner's blade, but with her. He guessed that maybe that's what love was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Mugen sounds OOC, it's because I think Mugen in his mid twenties would be OOC compared to the Mugen in the show (who I love)! This chapter was a struggle for me as far as finding which angle to go at it with, but it needed to happen. Thanks for all the feedback so far, you've all been very kind.
> 
> At the moment I don't think another chapter is warranted, but the could change in the future or if I think of something I could just do a separate fic. I rewatched this series recently for the first time in a decade and fell in love with it!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what the point of this is, or where it's going, if anywhere. I just rewatched the series for the first time in years and got the Fuugen bug! 
> 
> If the intermittent switching between past and present seemed confusing to you, it was intentional. I usually like the break up my stories individual scene by scene with a divider, but chose not to do that here quite so strictly for the effect of a little bit of confusion because Fuu's dialogue is often like that, flitting from one thing to the other and I can just imagine that being in her POV would be just like that. I usually don't like writing what I consider to be overemotional/ crying female characters but I actually like Fuu a lot- and she'll still considerably young after the series ends so I think it's fair for her to be emotional about things! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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